


All my meaningful firsts

by LeeJean



Series: Shameless: Mickey & Ian Gap Fillers [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, Developing Relationship, Gap Filler, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Season 3 episode 6, Season/Series 03, Sleepovers, inspired by a song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:15:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28880832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeJean/pseuds/LeeJean
Summary: Set the night of Mickey and Ian’s sleepover in 3.06.  Just two dudes, watching movies, eating snacks and drinking beer, getting each other off on the couch.Does NOT get into the events of the following morning.“Ian’s a good fucking kisser.  Amazing, actually, and Mickey curses himself a little, because he’s been missing out on this, on kissing Ian for far too long.  There’s something predatory about it, at least between the two of them.”
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Shameless: Mickey & Ian Gap Fillers [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022445
Comments: 6
Kudos: 131





	All my meaningful firsts

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.
> 
> Inspired by the song ‘Mickey’ performed by Toni Basil

Mickey grabs the remote off the cluttered coffee table and presses pause.The credit screen freezes, visual confirmation that he and Ian watched a whole movie together without tearing their clothes off and fucking on the couch.

“Told ya Seagal is the fucking man,” Mickey says.Ian darts a surreptitious look at Mickey from under his lashes.The anticipation that has been building for the past couple of hours tugs warmly at Mickey’s belly.It’s been a movie filled with covert sideways glances and fingers grazing over shared pizza rolls, and Mickey’s practically dizzy with want.

He turns and studies Ian’s profile; the strong line of his jaw, the short buzz of his hair, the fading freckles dotting his cheeks.If someone would have told Mickey, even six months ago, that he’d be sitting here on his fucking couch, savouring time spent with another boy, just hanging out, Mickey would have rolled his eyes and scoffed. 

Mickey doesn’t ‘hang out’.He doesn’t have friends, and he doesn’t do dates, or romance, or any of that shit. 

But Gallagher - fucking Gallagher - he has dudes falling all over him, wanting to buy him stuff and take him places.And what can Mickey offer?A stolen kiss in a van, beer and a movie on his dirty couch?How could that compare?

Mickey pulls his gaze away, and looks back towards the TV.“You wanna play Call of Duty?” he asks, gesturing to the screen.

“Uh...yeah, ok,” Ian replies, sounding kind of flustered.Mickey can feel Ian’s eyes on him again, and his stomach twists.

“Grab you another beer?” Mickey asks, pushing up off the couch.He decides to clean up a little bit, grabbing their empty bottles and the baking pan of cooling pizza rolls and taking them to the kitchen.

“You trying to get me drunk?” Ian asks flirtatiously, seeming much more sure of himself now that there’s some space between them.“Did you invite me over here to take advantage of me?”

“Never had to get you drunk before.You’re usually pretty fucking eager to get on me,” Mickey says.His face is hidden in the fridge, rifling for more beer, so he doesn’t have to worry about the heat in his cheeks, most likely flushing his pale skin.

Ian laughs.“Guess I’m kinda a sure thing, huh?”

“Southside slut, just how I like ‘em,” Mickey says, handing Ian a bottle of beer.

“You did not just call me a slut!”

“Pretty sure I did, though,” Mickey says, jabbing Ian’s side with his elbow as he plops back down on the couch.“You ready to play?”He grabs a controller off the coffee table and holds it out to Ian.

“Oh, I’m ready to play,” Ian taunts, and Mickey has no time to react before Ian launches at him, knocking into his shoulder and sending him spilling sideways onto the couch.Mickey has a split second the be thankful that the cap was still on his beer bottle before his brain catches up to the fact that he’s been fucking ambushed. 

Ian hovers over him, thwarts Mickey’s attempts to right himself and sit up, until he’s flat on his back on the couch, Ian sitting on his chest.“This feels familiar,” Ian says smugly.“‘Cept last time, you were on top, shoving your boner in my face.”

“Fuck off,” Mickey says, his voice breathy. 

“I could,” Ian replies, pretending to mull things over.“Or, I could....I don’t know?Fuck you?”

Mickey lets out a low groan, thrusts his groin up in the air.The buildup to this moment has him practically shaking with how badly he wants the boy straddling him.Ian’s eyes widen, and he scoots back, so that his ass is over Mickey’s very noticeable erection.Ian circles his hips, grinds his ass down on Mickey’s cock.

Mickey bucks up again, and Ian’s not anticipating the movement.He’s thrown back onto the arm of the couch, and Mickey scrambles up, quick and agile, throwing himself on top of Ian to pin him down.“Here’s how it should be,” Mickey says with a wolfish smile.“Me kicking your ass, ‘cause I’m the Seagal to your Van Damme.”

Ian just smiles back, in that kinda dopey way that makes Mickey’s chest tight.“You look good up there, Mick,” he says, and Mickey fucking melts.He drops down, crashes his lips into Ian’s for their second ever kiss.This one’s longer, with more heat behind it, and when Ian parts his lips, presses his tongue to the seam of Mickey’s mouth, Mickey answers back with wild enthusiasm.

Ian’s a good fucking kisser.Amazing, actually, and Mickey curses himself a little, because he’s been missing out on this, on kissing Ian for far too long.There’s something predatory about it, at least between the two of them.Like Mickey’s allowing himself to be claimed, by admitting how much he wants and craves Ian’s mouth on his. 

Mickey puts his hands on Ian’s chest for leverage, and pushes himself up.He takes a moment to look at Ian’s red, swollen mouth and wide, dilated eyes before he grabs him by the forearms and hauls him up.And yeah, Ian’s right, this is familiar, in the best possible way.They are two boys who can’t keep their hands off each other, in a mad race to get naked as quickly as possible. 

What’s different is when they get their shirts off, Ian shuffles forward, pulling Mickey flush to him and slotting their mouths together.No threats of ‘I’ll cut your fucking tongue out’.No tire irons or guns or black eyes and bruises.Their hands are still frantic, pushing down pants and boxers, grabbing at exposed skin, pulling each other even closer.But it feels intimate.Because this time, Ian’s here by invitation.

It doesn’t have to be a sprint to the finish; not tonight.They’ve got the place to themselves, a big bottle of good lube, and all the time in the world.It makes Mickey more wound up, almost out of control. He comes before Ian even gets inside him, Ian’s hot lips on his skin and warm hand tugging his dick sending him over the edge much sooner than he’d like.Ian doesn’t seem to care.He moans deep, watches Mickey’s come splatter his hand and Mickey’s own chest, and says, “that was fucking hot.You’re so fucking hot.”

Mickey’s usually the one egging Ian on, making little comments, talking filthy.But Mickey’s fucking breathless, his ability to speak punched out of him by his orgasm.He looks up at Ian, locks eyes with the brilliant green gaze piercing into him.Mickey feels a change, a shift in their dynamic, at the wordless communication.It’s a good feeling: like Mickey can let go, let Ian take control.Ian will take care of him, and Mickey shouldn’t like the thought of that so much.

The best fucking part is that Ian lives up to Mickey’s expectations.Surpasses them, ten fold, leaving him boneless and fucked out on his dirty couch, every inch of his sweaty skin pressed against Ian.He lets out a giddy laugh, because it was so fucking good, and he’s got Ian here all night.

———

There’s no fucking room on the couch for two teenage boys, but somehow, they manage to fall to sleep, buck naked, Ian on his side, jammed into the back of the sofa, and Mickey plastered in front of him. 

Mickey wakes up a few hours later, sprawled out on his stomach.He opens his eyes to find Ian sitting on the floor by his head, gazing at Mickey with a soft smile.

“The fuck you looking at?” Mickey asks, embarrassed.He could have been drooling, or snoring, or anything.

“You,” Ian says, and hiccups.He takes a long swig of beer from the bottle in his hand.

“You drunk?” Mickey asks, noticing Ian’s slightly unfocused gaze and reddened cheeks.

“Little bit,” Ian admits.“Couldn’t sleep.Didn’t wanna wake you by turning on the TV.Just sat here drinking some beers.”Ian slides forward a little, so their faces are almost touching.“Glad you’re awake.I like looking at your eyes.They’re pretty.”

“Jesus Christ, Gallagher,” Mickey says, chuckling.“That’s some girly shit.”

“Maybe,” Ian says, shrugging his shoulders.“Still true.”

“Ok, Shakespeare.We should get you to bed.Don’t want you to be all hung over at work tomorrow, right?”

Ian closes his eyes and nods, but remains seated on the floor.Mickey rolls his eyes.He stands up, grabs Ian’s hand, and pulls him to his feet.He pushes Ian firmly towards his bedroom.

Mickey takes a second to appreciate the long, lean muscles of Ian’s body as he walks in front of Mickey.Broad shoulders, tight back, pert ass, strong thighs.There’s no telling when they’ll get another chance like this, where they can let their guard down, be relaxed and unhurried.

Ian flops down on Mickey’s bed on top of the covers, humming under his breath. The tune is sorta familiar, but Mickey can’t place it.“Hey, deadweight.Get the fuck up.Your giraffe body is sprawled across all the blankets.”

Ian keeps humming as he smiles sweetly at Mickey, shuffling around until he situates himself under the covers.The humming cuts off when Ian lets out a contented sigh, and says, “Hey, Mickey?Tell me a bedtime story.”

“No fucking way,” Mickey says, barking out a laugh.“I’m not your fucking father.”

“Thank God for that.I’m not really into the Daddy kink.”

“Just...go the fuck to sleep, man,” Mickey says as he crawls in next to Ian.They lie face to face, just looking at each other, and it’s weirding Mickey out a little bit.Like, what should he be doing right now? He’s never fucking slept with anybody before.

Ian closes his eyes and starts humming again, the same tune from earlier.Mickey watches him for a moment before turning off the bedside lamp and shutting his eyes, too.And that’s when Mickey recognizes the song Ian’s been humming.

“Ian,” Mickey says menacingly.

“Yeah, Mickey?”Ian’s voice is light and teasing.“You want me to sing you a lullaby?”

“Not if you know what’s good for you.”

“There’s this old song Fiona listens too, from the eighties or some shit.Kind of reminds me of you.”Mickey can practically hear the smile in Ian’s voice.Smug bastard. 

“Don’t fucking do it,” Mickey warns threateningly.

“ _Oh Mickey, you’re so fine, you’re so fine you blow my mind, hey Mickey_! ” Ian warbles, off key.He even throws his arms up, like the cheerleader in the fucking video.Like Mickey hasn’t been teased with the same song dozens of times in his life.

“I’m gonna murder you,” Mickey growls. 

“It’s true though.For me.You blow my mind, Mickey.” Jesus Christ, this kid will be the death of Mickey. Who the fuck blurts out shit like that?

“Seriously.I’m gonna tie your lanky body to a fucking concrete block and throw you in the river.”The threat is made a little less persuasive by the fondness creeping into Mickey’s voice.

“Has no one ever sung that song to you?”Ian asks, feigning shock.

“Has no one ever beat your fucking face in?‘Cause we might change that today.”

“Nah, I’ve gotten beat up before.You’ll have to try harder than that if you want to be my first at something.”

“Fuck you.”Mickey flips him under the covers for good measure.Maybe Ian can’t see it, but it makes Mickey feel better.

“Sorry, your not my first at that, either.”Ian lets out a little chuckle.

“Yup, ‘cause you’re a fuckin’ slut. We’ve established that.Don’t expect I’ll be your first anything, Gallagher.”

“Takes one to know one,” Ian replies snarkily.“Anyway, I bet I’m not your first anything either.”

Ian sounds a little upset, and it shouldn’t affect Mickey as much as it does.“You’d be surprised,” he murmurs.

Ian’s quiet for a moment.Then he says, “Mick?You’re the first guy I ever pursued, you know that?”

“Oh, you pursued me?” Mickey asks.“Sure about that?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ian says, words starting to slur together.“Visited you in Juvie.Got you a job.Wanted to keep you close to me.”Mickey takes a deep breath while he struggles with what to say.Before he can come up with a reply, Ian’s asleep, snuffling into the pillow.Drunk Ian is kinda adorable.Annoying and adorable.

Mickey tosses and turns for a while before accepting that he won’t be falling asleep anytime soon.He sits up and pushes his back against the wall, grabbing a bottle of beer from his bedside table. It’s warm and flat, but it’s familiar, and the rush of alcohol down his throat helps steady his nerves.

Ian’s this big ginger log beside him, taking up well over half of Mickey’s bed, looking young and vulnerable in his sleep.It strikes Mickey then, how precious this stolen time is.Something’s gonna tear them apart, sooner or later.If it’s not Mickey’s unwillingness to show Ian affection, it will be Juvie, or West Point, or some other obstacle stacked against them, two fucked-up boys from the Southside that found each other, against all odds.

Mickey drops a hand to Ian’s hair, runs his fingers through the short strands before cupping the back of his head gently.It’s too tender a gesture for the likes of Mickey Milkovich.It makes his heart thrum wildly, a mix of terror and hope and attachment mingling together, until he can’t help but shuffle down and place his mouth next to Ian’s ear.

“You were my first kiss.With a guy.And the first kiss I actually liked,” Mickey whispers.“You were the first guy I let fuck me.Fucking stupid.Didn’t let anyone near my ass in Juvie, but then spread my legs for some neighbourhood rat that could have outed me in a second.Guess I’m a slut for you, too.”

Ian twitches a little, but doesn’t wake up.Mickey can’t hold himself back now, the floodgates are open and he’s getting it all off his chest.“First guy I’ve been with, more than once.First dick I touched that wasn’t my own.Fuck, Gallagher, first time I got jealous was over your ginger ass.”

Mickey rolls over so that his back presses into Ian’s chest.“All the firsts that mean anything, they’ve all been with you.Wouldn’t have invited you to this gay-ass sleepover otherwise.Asshole.”

Ian squirms in his sleep, worming closer to Mickey.He tucks his chin onto Mickey’s shoulder, his nose buried in Mickey’s neck. Mickey’s body relaxes, the steady huffs of air on his back lulling him towards sleep.

“First time anyone’s liked me enough to get to know me, to stick around.”Mickey yawns, lets his eyes droop shut.“Not that I fucking care, or anything.”

But as Mickey’s thoughts traverse the point of awareness between wakefulness and slumber, he admits he’s lying to himself.He cares.He really fucking cares, and that’s a first, too.

**Author's Note:**

> ‘It's guys like you Mickey  
> Oh, what you do Mickey, do Mickey  
> Don't break my heart, Mickey’
> 
> Yeah that good ole 1980s music.


End file.
